Martinis, Not TakeOut
by Remy's Writer
Summary: Vicki turns Mike down for takeout on a rare night off. Instead, she has drinks with Henry. When a small argument ensues, she goes to his condo to talk it out. HenryVicki. Fluff. Sex. Goodness. RnR please.
1. Drinks and Open Zippers

**Disclaimer:**_ In no way, shape, or form do I own Blood Ties, Vicki, Coreen, Mike or Henry. Nor have I ever. They are all copy write to Tanya Huff and Lifetime network. This work of literature is for entertainment purposes only and I am not receiving any kind of money for this._

**Your Obedient Servant,  
R.W.**

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"No Coreen. I am taking the night off. I'm not working, they can wait until tomorrow."

"Then can I have that advance yet?"

"Goodnight." The door clicked shut to Vicki Nelson, PI 'headquarters.' Her cell phone rings. "Vicki Nelson."

"It's Mike. I caught wind of you taking the night off. Take-out at my place?"

"Mike--"

"C'mon. Like old times."

"Mike. I appreciate the offer. What happened a few weeks ago, at the clinic... It was for the job." Vicki's voice took on an apologetic tone.

"You sure didn't kiss like it." Oh, no. He was getting defensive. This would end in verbal bloodshed.

"We had to keep up appearances, you know that."

"It went beyond that."

"Not tonight, Mike. I have plans."

"With Henry?" he asked accusingly.

"I am _so_ not doing this."

"Vick--"

She hung up the phone. No bickering. That was the first thing on her to-do list for the night.

Vicki sat in the taxi silently, thinking about what exactly had happened with Mike Celluci. Perhaps they did get a little carried away. The PDA may have been a bit exaggerated for a couple five-years married. She could see how wires would have been crossed. She didn't realize the taxi had been sitting in front of the quaint club, waiting for her to pay and leave. The driver even left the meter running. Jerk.

She stepped out, ran her fingers through her hair, straightened her jacket, and then paid the cabby his outrageous price. The second Vicki walked through the doors, she forgot about Mike, the clinic, the tiring day. Then again, it could have been the young, charming man sitting at the bar waiting. They made eye contact just before a very desperate-seeming man placed himself in Vicki's way.

"Excuse me," she said over the soft music as she attempted to push past.

"You can get in my way, I don't mind." The tone of his voice was mock-suave. Oh, lordy. He was trying to pick her up.

"Actually, I'm meeting someone." Vicki didn't even try for apologetic.

"Sure you are. What's your name?" His face was undergoing a series of changes that she assumed were suppose to be attractive.

Henry must have sensed her agitation from the bar, because he was behind Vicki in a flash with his arms around her waist and staring up at the stranger from his resting place on her shoulder.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming, my love." Henry let his eyes bleed to that vampire black of his as he growled protectively.

"The lady and I were talking. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if you kept your hands off her." Henry's eyes didn't seem to phase the man. Perhaps he assumed they were contacts.

"No," Henry grinned," I'm sure she appreciates it very much." His fingers skimmed up her torso to her neck. Gently, but swiftly, Henry turned her head to face him and he simply attacked her mouth.

Vicki, for once, didn't argue.

They heard the man scoff and stomp away in rejection. Henry didn't pull away. Instead, he spun her around to pull her flush against him. His hands cupped her chin and tilted her head farther upward. A quick, thorough sweep of Vicki's mouth with an expert tongue ended the kiss.

After Henry pulled away, Vicki just stood there, stunned with her eyes still closed and her lips slightly parted.

Henry grinned. "Vicki," he said, trying not to laugh.

She lightly gasped a breath. "Right, drinks." As if nothing happened, she placed herself on a bar stool, her face tingling slightly. When Henry joined her, she turned to him once she'd ordered her martini.

"Thanks," she said casually. "I don't think he'll be coming back to me. I think you damaged his ego too much."

Henry laughed slightly. "I didn't do it alone. In fact, I'm pretty sure you did at least half the work."

"No, I just went along, and why can't we _ever_ go to my bar? They make my drinks right." Vicki pushed her glass toward Henry and he passed his hand over it, satisfying the PI at his side.

"Don't change the subject. You kissed me right back." He sipped his own martini as he smiled at Vicki's argument.

"Wha-- no, I-- psh. Well, we had as appearance to keep up." Why did that sound familiar?

Henry laughed outright. "That's what you told Celluci about the case with the clinic, I'm sure. But that," he pointed to where they'd been standing, "that was not keeping appearances. You enjoyed that." The vampire donned an all-knowing and cocky grin. He sure was cheeky tonight. It was no use lying to him about how the kiss had made her feel. He was 400+ years old, he could sense it, smell it.

"Fine, I won't lie. It's useless to lie to you anyways." Vicki took the rest of her alcohol in one swig.

"It was nice to see you, Vicki. I can tell you're upset and I have a deadline." Henry paid for their drinks and left.

Vicki sighed. Why did the men in her life always get so touchy?

Henry looked up from his easel at the knock on his apartment door. Carefully, he opened it to find Vicki staring him down. He took the pencil from his mouth to slide it behind his ear. "Vicki?"

"Listen," she said with a solid voice, "we need to talk.

"Whatever about?"

Vicki didn't say a word. She stepped up to him and shoved her mouth to his.

Taken in the moment, Henry did the noble thing and kissed right back. Well, maybe that wasn't _noble_ per se, but it sounded like a good idea at the time.

Simultaneously, they took the kiss a notch up with hungry force as Vicki pushed her was in and kicked the door shut. Henry shoved her against the wood of the door when Vicki's hands went through the vampire's hair to somehow pull his head closer to hers. After a moment, however, Vicki, at least, needed to come up for air.

"I thought you needed to talk to me," Henry said somewhat breathlessly.

"I am talking," Vicki smirked.

"You're bleeding." Henry gently wiped his finger across her bottom lip, coming away smeared red. "I apologize."

"Why are you just staring at it?"

Henry sucked on the tip of his finger and his eyes bled dark. With a new vigor, Henry carefully devoured and licked at Vicki's mouth. She tasted sweet and intoxicating. She'd had another apple martini before she'd come over.

"What time is it?" Vicki breathed against Henry's eager lips.

"About 1:30." His breath whispered down her neck just before he kissed her jaw line. "There's plenty of time."

"Y-y-you're deadline." Her voice was breathy, whimpery as his lips made their way down her neck, stopping hesitantly at the pulse-point.

To counter Vicki's growing nerves and tension, Henry slid his hand to her jeans and slowly teased her skin before he unbuttoned them. He slipped the zipper open and shoved his palm down to cup her. Vicki sucked in a harsh breath and tensed. Meanwhile, Henry's lips and mouth drew her pulse between his teeth, but resisted the urge to tear it from her throat.

As his index finger made a brush past her clit, Henry drew back to watch Vicki's face. Her eyes were closed and her head arched off the door. She was biting her bottom lip harshly and trying not to scream. Vicki opened her eyes to see his black orbs asking permission.

"Just don't take too much," she squeezed out, forcing her voice box to function properly.

That was all he wanted, all he needed. Silently, he walked Vicki to his bedroom, closing the red-draped French doors behind them. Impulsively, he removed Vicki's jeans as she peeled herself from her top. Next came Henry's clothing, but far quicker. In the blink of an eye, Vicki found herself pressed to the satin sheets of Henry Fitzroy's unbelievably comfortable bed with his unbelievable body pinning her. She could feel him pressed against her stomach. Was she really about to do this? Was Vicki Nelson, Private Investigator about to complicate her life by sleeping with and furthering her relationship with a vampire? Yes. Yes she was.

Henry positioned himself to enter and pushed up onto his arms. He looked down at the blonde and smiled stupidly. Then he tilted his head toward the hollow of her throat. At exactly the same moment, he licked up her neck and drew the tip of his penis against her clit. The reaction was perfect, with her shuddering, writhing, and moaning all at once.

"My Vicki. My love," he whispered in her ear split seconds before he shoved his hips forward. The moment he felt her, Henry's teeth pierced cleanly through the skin at the hollow of Vicki's neck. Blood rushed into his mouth in a sudden, hot stream. So sweet. So warm. So perfect.

His hips kept working, steadily climbing to a quick, hard pace. Moving, moving, moving. So soon, he felt Vicki tense. He pumped into her until her body sucked him in with the onset of orgasm.

Vicki's nails found the clean flesh of Henry's back and soiled it as she bit his shoulder to keep from screaming out. A primal growl ripped itself from Henry when he felt her teeth break skin. He pulled from her neck so that he could get out of Vicki's reach. They rode out orgasm together until there was nothing left.

Henry fought from falling on top of Vicki and instead rolled to her side.

"Tell me you didn't taste blood," he panted.

"I...I...uhm...no," she replied incoherently. "Did you?"

Henry licked her seeping wound and smiled lazily. "You taste delicious."

Vicki smiled and rolled over to his open arms. With her head on his chest, she listened to his impossibly slow heartbeat.

"I thought your heart didn't beat?" she mumbled into his sweat-slicked chest.

"It does for you."

"Now to tell everyone I gave into you, finally."

"Let's sleep first. Wait until tomorrow night at least."

For the first, and definitely not the last, time Vicki slept with a man wrapped and entangled with her. Even if he isn't quite alive.


	2. The Pelvis and Us

**Dear Readers,**

**If I need to repeat myself to the fact that I own none of these characters and, in some cases via book, not the situations, I shall be very disappointed.**

…

**I'm just joking. But, really, I shouldn't have to reiterate the fact that I don't own Vicki or Mike or Coreen or Henry. Though, the latter would be wonderful to own. devious smirk A few people asked for another chapter… so I guess this is the evening after. Or something like that.**

**Your Obedient Servant,**

**R.W.

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When Vicki's eyes snapped open, almost violently, she searched around for her glasses, and then a clock. She finally read the digital numbers across the room glowing a yellow-green; they said it was almost four thirty in the afternoon. With the season being the on-set of winter, she figured she had about half an hour before sun down. Half an hour before Henry. Wait… Henry?

She was _in_ Henry's bed. She was in Henry's bed naked and tangled in his red satin sheets. Henry was lying next to her. She realized he was essentially dead until the sun disappeared. That meant she could take a shower. Thank god.

Slipping out from under the sheets, she modestly covered herself and tip-toed around the bed from a dead man. It wasn't like he could hear or see her. Still, she made it quickly and quietly to Henry's bathroom. Once in, she shut, but did not lock, the door, confident she could be done before Henry woke for the evening.

Vicki thought no further than the shower stall and the scorching water that would soon be relieving the soreness in her body. It was not the last night, but the overall of the last week that caused this seemingly constant tension coursing through her body as a whole.

She turned the knob on the wall of the shower to raise the water temperature to near scalding. If it had gotten any hotter, she just might have started to burn. The steaming liquid streamed out of the shower head in a pulsating, massaging motion. Nothing like a good, old-fashioned pressure nozzle to ease throbbing muscles.

The exact moment Vicki stepped under the water, she never wanted to remove herself. Putting her back to the stream, she used the wall she now faced as a support, bracing her arms and hands against it. She let the effervescent water beat at her skin over and over, occasionally shifting something in her stance to let the stream soothe some other part of her back. Before she realized it, twenty minutes had gone by. Smartly using the last ten, she washed herself, and then her hair, instantly recognizing the scent of the shampoo as a smell Henry carried everywhere.

When she stepped from the shower stall, she found she had neglected to even _look_ for a towel. After scanning the bathroom and immediate area, all she could find was Henry's red satin robe hanging on its hook. With the mind set that she still had time before he woke, she pulled it around herself, inhaling mingling odors of Henry's body wash, soaps, and that smell that is both man and vampire. Placing her glasses back into place on her nose, Vicki opened the bathroom door. No sooner did she step over the threshold than she ran into a solid wall of bare skin and chest.

"You almost look better in that than I do. Almost."

Henry looked her up and down, his arms crossing over his chest. Vicki blushed slightly at the prospect of being caught in the act. Under the scrutiny of his gaze, for some reason, Vicki felt she had done something punishable. Her eyes dropped from his to focus on his chest; anything to avoid eye contact.

Trying not to laugh, Henry broke the decently awkward silence. "I said you _almost_ look as good as I do. Nothing to blush about. There's some clean clothing for you on the bed. Now, if you'd be so kind as to give me my robe?"

When Vicki began to stare him down and pull the robe tighter about her, he chuckled soundlessly. "You forget, I have already seen you naked. And, if I'm not mistaken, it was your idea."

Finally, Vicki opened her mouth. "You haven't given me the chance to make it look _better_ on me." With that, she straightened her back and wore what pride she still contained well. She sauntered past Henry to the bed and began to pick at the clothes set out for her; they were hers, but not from last night. A set she must have left here when she passed out on his sofa last.

With a preternatural quickness, Henry placed himself behind Vicki at the foot of the bed, his right arm snaking around her waist to draw her flush against him and bunch the material of his robe. The blood hue of the satin slid off of her left shoulder and Henry's free hand came up to brush across her bared, pale flesh.

"Trust me," he whispered into her hair behind her ear, "you look much better with it off." His teeth grazed the back of her neck underneath the wet fall of her clean hair.

A shudder ran like lightning down Vicki's spine at the closeness Henry presented. The sensation of his dull teeth on the ticklish part of her body gave her an impression close to modesty or even self-consciousness. There was something clicking in her mind about the idea that such a young-looking, accomplished, seductive, predatory, seemingly-perfect man could show such open passion towards a blinding, cowardly private eye such as herself. It was a charming idea that she should be able to show off such a prize as Henry.

The far away look in her eyes and the ghost of a smile on her lips made Henry slow his actions, turn Vicki around in his arms and just observe her, a crooked smile upon his own face. This woman never ceased to amaze him. He could only imagine the thoughts pouring through her mind as he watched the gears twist and turn in odd directions.

"Vicki?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to disrupt a specific train of thought.

"Hmm?" she replied a little hazily as her eyes found his and she came back to herself. When she saw the amusement, affection, and slight residue of arousal swirling a multi-colored well of his eyes, she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a slightly elevated eyebrow.

Her smile widened a bit. "Yeah," she said with certainty, "I'm great." It was then that Vicki embraced her vampire companion in a tight hug, holding him as close as possible. She took one deep breath, inhaling his natural scent, reveling in it, basking in the feel of him against her, before she pushed away slightly. Looking back up at him, she said, "Go take your shower. We've got celebrating to do and I think drinks and a night out is suitable."

Henry cocked his head to the side. "What, pray tell, are we celebrating, milady?"

"Me, you… us."

"So there's an 'us' now?" he asked, slightly skeptic.

"What? You've changed your mind about me?"

He let out a small laugh. "That's a joke, right?"

"That's what I thought," she said with a smile. "There's one other thing we've got to celebrate."

"Oh?"

"You getting your robe back." The tone she used was teasing and she smirked and let the robe fall off of her other shoulder as she reached her arms around Henry. Her small hands splayed across his lower back as she slowly drew her nails upward.

His body arched into her and his eyes closed, a slight growl emanating from his throat. When she ran her tongue from the hollow of his neck all the way up the column to his jaw, he snapped. His mouth claimed hers hotly, and she responded instantly. There was nothing sensual or caring about the kiss. It was pure sex in itself.

As he devoured her mouth, Vicki felt Henry's cold hands slip to her front where he untied the band to his robe, the front spilling open, leaving the garment hanging by the bend of her elbows. Underneath the smooth cloth, his fingertips found the swell of her bottom and gripped, pulling her pelvis against his, crushing, letting her know what she did to him. Smiling, Vicki pulled away, pushing at his chest.

Henry let out a groan of frustration as she let the robe fall to the floor and pool at her feet. When he went to her, she held out an upturned finger, tsking him as she wagged it back and forth. She pointed in the direction of the bathroom, indicating his need to hurry along his prep for the evening. Growling almost angrily, he reached down, snatched up his robe and began his stiff walk to the bathroom. She met him at the doorway to run her hands along his pelvic area, grabbing his thighs and brushing her palm against his straining erection. She then scraped a trail down his spine with her teeth, following it back up with her warm tongue.

"You keep that up," he rumbled dangerously, "we will never leave and you will not be able to walk come morning." With that, he broke her hold and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He enjoyed the rush of blood he heard through her body at the events his comment insinuated. He knew Vicki well enough to know that she was blushing, and not entirely opposed to the idea.

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_A/N: Kay... part dos, like those of you asked. If you want number three... it would be a confrontation with Mike... a club scene or two... you know, loaded with sexual strain like in the last bit of this. So review this and let me know what you think and what you want out of this... my plot bunnies suck unless it's smutty... so if there's more you want, I'll write it. I am at your mercy, so to speak._


	3. No Use Crying Over Broken Glass

**Dear Readers,**

**Here is the long overdue update! I hope you like it. I like how it turned out. Please, feedback. But if you want more after this, you'll have to shoot ideas at me. It was hard to get this out.**

**Your Obedient Servant,  
R.W.**

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The skirt of the red dress clung to her thighs with slight discomfort. She emerged from the bedroom, her dress coupled with the strappy, red, heeled sandals and her blonde hair curling softly, half of it pulled back in a barrette. She looked up from pulling down the hem once more and glared at the man in front of her. Her green eyes narrowed at the sight of him, envying the way his white silk shirt clung comfortably to his chest and his black slacks flowed to his shoes. As she straightened, a smile split his face in two at the scowl on her pretty face. The question was in the tilt of his head, his light curls falling to one side.

"Why is it that you always get to wear the comfy clothes and I get stuck in things like this?" Her arms flapped to her sides in an exaggerated movement.

He chuckled softly as he walked toward her, wrapping his arms around her waist loosely and looking down at her frustrated expression. "Because, my love. When you wear things so… tempting as this, I cannot help but gloat the fact that you are on _my_ arm, and no one else's." He watched as her eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to say something. With a finger over her lips, he concluded with, "I love the stares of pure jealousy I get. You know, boosts my ego and all."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I enjoy them more. I may appear to be robbing the cradle, but I can't say I don't appreciate female—and male—leers at me." Pecking his cheek and moving past him to grab her coat, Vicki spoke over her shoulder. "By the way… why _are_ you taking me to dinner? You don't eat. And… where?"

He just smiled that Henry smile as he held the door open for her and they made their way to the elevator. The doors closed and he smiled at her. "I'm taking you to dinner because you need to relax before we have a Celucci reunion and his temper destroys private property of some sort. You _know_ that's what will happen, Vicki," he said, pointing at her, before she could get the protest past her parted lips. "And in regards to where, that… is the surprise."

"I hate surprises," she muttered, crossing her arms and facing the elevator doors.

"I know," he smirked. He turned to face the opposite direction as she as the elevator reached ground floor. "Are you coming?"

She turned around and looked at him crossing the threshold. "Right. Double-sided elevator. I knew that." Her tone was as sincere as her walk was fake.

Henry watched her walk ahead of him, the heels giving her hips an extra sway that made him growl low. Catching up with her quickly, they made it out the door and to his car, her silence speaking volumes. It wasn't until they reached the restaurant that she was at a loss for words.

"Biagio Ristorante? Henry…"

"Hush. You did, after all, mention spaghetti the other night. Italian's Italian… this is just upscale."

The restaurant was on King St. Being in the St. Lawrence Hall, it was one of the nicer Italian places. Til now, Henry had prided himself on the fact that he took Vicki to the dives she called fine dining for her favorite burgers and fries. Now it was time for her to taste a bit of the upper class. His reservations were for a corner table near the fountain on the back patio. He felt it would be romantic enough to make the visible tension in the line of her body release some. She was set on telling Mike and Coreen about them, and it was only the sensible thing to do. But it also meant that their encounter was more to her than he expected. She was accepting it; embracing it. Living it. Plus… she really had been craving spaghetti.

The Maitre D led them to the small, private table only set for one, but with two chairs.

Vicki looked around and tried not to glare. "Henry. You didn't have to. I mean, I'm fine. And this is beautiful."

"You're not fine, Victoria. Now sit, have some wine. Order whatever it is that you'd like." He pulled the chair in front of the place setting out and gestured for her to sit, a serious twinkle in his eye. She finally obliged and he took his seat across from her.

Knowing he would not rest until she ordered something to eat and tried to enjoy the "early" evening out, Vicki looked at the menu. She ordered a simple, yet filling lamb dish complete with roasted potatoes cooked with caramelized onions and sautéed vegetables. Also, she requested a solitary glass of an ever-versatile and medium-bodied Sangiovese.

"I thought you wanted spaghetti," Henry said in a mocking tone, one red-gold brow arched high.

Vicki scoffed and gestured at the garden surrounding them on the small patio. "In a place like this with $40 entrees? No way. Besides… that was three days ago." She shrugged and glanced sidelong at him, a smirk on her lips.

He rolled his eyes. "Since when do you know wines?"

"What? Because I'm a chick and I used to be a cop, I don't know what reds go with what dishes?" she asked, amused.

Henry chuckled quietly. "No, my dear. Simply… surprised, that is all. I never pictured you one for wines. Especially reds."

"Well, you know. I'm dating this guy who drinks a lot of red… so I'm growing fond of it." She loved the smile of amusement splitting his face in two. Only her smartass remarks could evoke that kind of expression from him. The way his hazel eyes sparkled when that charming smile reached all the way up. It was how she could tell he was truly enjoying himself. Almost feeling human again, normal again. She hated when he smiled and his eyes remained empty and void of any emotion; it saddened her. But it was moments like these for which she lived to see him. Moments of happiness.

Her meal passed with quiet, meaningless banter and common small talk. It was as if they were a normal couple having a nice night out together. For about an hour, they weren't a vampire and a half blind private investigator. Henry wasn't the illegitimate son of Henry VIII; he was a graphic novelist sharing instant after glorious instant with the woman he loved. The romanticism broke periodically, of course, when a wise comment would slip from one of them as per usual. There was one crack, followed by the action it implied, that would ruin the rest of the evening.

"Sorry to break this heart-wrenching tale of yours, Henry. But I must see a man about a horse. Or some other insanely nonsensical and American metaphor. Again."

It was all he could do to not laugh as she pushed herself from the table and straightened her dress. When she began walking from him, he grinned in satisfaction as a waiter almost dropped his tray holding approximately $500 worth of food as she sauntered past him. That was _his._ There was no doubt about that.

Vicki seemed to weave through table after table until she finally made it to the restroom. The wine had gone straight through her and it seemed like her bladder had shrunk to the size of a pea. She found it increasingly annoying as every glass Henry continued to order interrupted their conversation and she found herself constantly leaving the table to relieve the pressure in her abdomen. _It could be worse; _she thought as she flushed the toilet and emerged from the stall, _I could be pregnant._ The thought made her pause in her hand washing. _Good thing he's been the equivalent to washed out with spermicide._ Bad visual. The point was, and it was a very good point at that, she could not get pregnant from Henry.

But… what if they wanted children?

_No!_ Vicki chided herself mentally. _Waaaay too early. Just think of what Mom would say!_ That thought alone made her turn from the subject.

As she made her way back outside, just before the open double doors, she heard, "So, Chinese and beer are the best tools needed to solve cases. As long as there's Kung Pao."

She turned on the thin heel of her red shoe and saw none other than, "Mike?!"

"Uh… Vicki? Is that… you?" he looked at up from his plate—and his date—to glance at her. Vicki in a dress? A tight dress and heels? Wow. Damn she looked good. _Focus on Kate, focus on Kate!_

"Never mind me. What the hell are _you_ doing here?" He didn't get a chance to answer as she noticed Kate sitting across from him in a simple white dress, her hair in a ponytail. Vicki's mouth formed a silent "O" as she realized he was… on a date? With _Kate?_ So much for "not romantically interested." She scoffed mentally.

The moment was awkward as an idea donned on Mike Celucci. Who was Vicki here with? Better yet, what…

"Are you here with who I think you're here with?" he asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing and glancing toward the patio.

"Mike… don't start," Vicki warned, putting up a hand.

"Listen, why don't I leave and you two work out your domestic issues." Kate stood to leave, but was stopped when both held out hands and simultaneously commanded, "Shut up and sit down," without even looking at her. The brunette did as she was told, hoping the dramatics would be over soon enough.

"'Don't start?' So you _are_ with him! You're here with Henry _fucking_ Fitzroy!" Mike stood and leaned toward Vicki, a sneer on his face. "Fangboy enjoying his _meal_?"

A loud _slap_ of flesh on flesh roused nearby diners from their meals and Henry was at Vicki's side in the flutter of an eyelash. Mike held his face, the left side red and swelling slightly.

"You have _no_ right to deride me because of who I date, Mike. How dare you even speak to me like that. Like I am a piece of flesh." The words leaked out from between clenched teeth as she spoke low so only he could hear. She knew, however, that Henry could hear every word with more clarity than she spoke.

"I'm not on a date with a… thing!" Mike lashed in return.

"You're out with Kate! How is it any different? Am I not allowed a romantic life because you're no longer interested?!"

Their voices had risen and were attracting an increasing attention from the employees and patrons at the Biagio. All those witnessing the current exchange of words between cop and P.I., however, were smart enough to watch and not intervene. It was apparent that the proper thing would be to let things ride out as they would… and bill for any impending damage.

"Kate is a normal human being! You're with _him,_" Mike paused shortly to gesture angrily at Henry to Vicki's right. "It's… different."

"Yeah, well. I've already slept with my date, so I'm a step ahead of the game!" Vicki realized she had said that last out loud a moment too late.

"What?" Mike growled.

"Vicki, we need to go…" Henry began, grabbing her arm lightly and tugging.

"Fitzroy, back the fuck off." Mike's hand found Henry's chest and applied an unneeded amount of pressure. "You've done enough damage, obviously."

Glancing down at Mike's hand, Henry responded coolly. "Detective, I suggest you remove your hand."

"He's not the only one who's done anything, Mike. I'm pretty sure I was there too. That's right. I. Slept. With. Henry. And you know what? Who's to say I wouldn't do it again?"

There was a roar of anger. People took cover as a wine glass went sailing through the air at a remarkable speed. It shattered against the wall and Mike stood there, his chest heaving as he took in gulps of air. It burned going down his esophagus and into his lungs, the action taking a vast amount of energy. All he could do was watch as Henry and Vicki walked away toward the exit, an arm around each other. Was Vicki… skipping?

"Uhm, sir?" a small voice came from his right.

"What?" Mike growled.

"We'll have to bill you for the glass…"

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_A real restaurant on King St. in Toronto. There's really a garden patio and a fountain... I did a little research. $35-$100/plate..._


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